After 48 days, 9 hours, 13 minutes and 1,400,000 oarstrokes, the Row2Recovery
crew have completed their journey across the Atlantic

On Wednesday December 4, 2013, a team of wounded soldiers set out on an Atlantic rowing odyssey from the Canaries. At 6.12pm on Tuesday January 21, 2013, they arrived in Antigua. The crew, which consists of four men with five legs between them, kept a weekly blog for Telegraph Men. Here is their final entry.

The reception into English Harbour, Antigua, exceeded anything we could have expected. It was the most awesome way to end the challenge. As we approached the finish line about five or six boats came out to meet us and then as we entered the harbour we were surrounded by everything from small dinghies to super yachts, all holding crowds of people.

Foghorns were blaring and cannons were firing. It was unbelievable. I don’t think the enormity of all of this has sunk in yet. It's been humbling. Rowing across the Atlantic with my three special crewmates has been one of the best experiences of my life. I feel so lucky to have had the opportunity, and to be able to spend my first nights on shore for seven weeks with my family and friends.

We owe an enormous thank you to all who have supported and followed us.

Picture: Ben Duffy

James Kayll

Having previously completed the Indian Ocean row, I noticed that I felt a lot more emotional at the start of the Talisker Whisk Atlantic Challenge. I knew what I was letting myself in for, and I was fully aware that I was the only crew member who really understood through experience the scale of what we were about to face.

I could never have predicted quite how rough this crossing would be. For me, arriving in Antigua was as much a relief as it was an achievement.

The level of support has been amazing - in fact it has been overwhelming. It has not just been friends and families but so many people who have clearly felt a connection with the campaign.

For the last two weeks of the race, we were neck and neck with our new friends, the Atlantic Polo team. They arrived only a few hours before us - the equivalent of a sprint finish in ocean rowing terms. It's been genuinely cool sharing our experience with them.

Of the 16 teams who started the race, we finished third. Not bad, I think!

Getting back to complete normality will take a while. We get to stay in Antigua's sunny bubble for another week or so now - and that is just fine for me!

Picture: Ben Duffy

Mark Jenkins

After we landed I saw the photo taken from The World, an enormous liner that passed us at sea a few days before we finished. It gives this thing a level perspective that you lose in the day to day life on board a 29ft rowing boat. Now that we have finished, we're starting to realise just how ridiculous our achievement is.

When you put yourself up for something like this you open yourself up for criticism. There is a bit risk factor at play - but if you don’t take that risk you will never achieve anything. Some of my mates were joking with me that they had a sweepstake on when I would be airlifted off the boat and rescued – someone had said day one!

The scale of this challenge is a good analogy for the rehab process. It would be so easy to be defeated by the enormous task and the duration and commitment required to struggle through. As a physio at Headley Court, I have watched the guys in the recovery process and seen how they have taken things a day at a time to stop being overwhelmed. It’s exactly how we had to approach this. After spending time with these guys, the fact that they are injured becomes irrelevant. The power of the experience led us to forget about the injuries and focus the result.

Scott Blaney

I am sitting on a sun-lounger letting the whole experience sink in. I am here with my fiancé Amy, a large rum punch and a feeling that I am the happiest man on Earth.

It’s totally different from last week. We have had rough, wet, cramped, uncomfortable conditions, but we have also had the experience of a lifetime. It is still surreal to be here. I don’t think reality will kick in properly until I get back onto the plane.

The finish line moment was hard to explain. It was simply amazing. I never expected anything like that, people were going mad and everyone seemed so happy. Coming in at night really set the mood: the flares, the horns, the sunset, it was hard to drink it all in.

This is something I will tell my grandkids about. I would be lying if I did not say that part of this adventure was for me, but the main reason I did it was to raise awareness of the cause of the wounded soldier. I did this for the lads, for the mates I lost. I did this to prove that you don’t need to lie there in the hospital bed. You cannot lose hope. You need that will power to carry on.